


Shower For One

by fiveainley_ohmy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, PWP, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 00:15:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7595827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveainley_ohmy/pseuds/fiveainley_ohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Mm, you like that?" Sherlock could imagine John saying. Sherlock bit his lip and nodded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a scene in my other fan fic, "Dopplegangland", Sherlock touching himself in the shower while thinking about John. Nothin' special, just sad wanking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my good friend Mima! ♡♡♡

Sherlock stepped under the hot water and groaned. He was trembling. John had touched his neck at a crime scene today in a most unusual way, which had had Sherlock's skin singing all the way home. Sherlock was 74% sure John didn't notice. Well, 73%, at least. John  _never_ noticed him - not the way he wanted to be noticed.

Sherlock poured his expensive body wash that John teased him about all over himself, the silky ooze feeling like hands softly caressing his skin. Smallish, strong, sure hands. Loving hands.

They were sliding down his hips...his arse. "Mm, you like that?" Sherlock could imagine John saying. Sherlock bit his lip and nodded.

"Let me take care of you, gorgeous," Imaginary John murmured saliciously, as Sherlock poured some shampoo into his hair and fantasized it was John's sturdy fingers scrubbing his scalp. "Ahh, that's it," John cooed. "Get all that stuffy product out of there. There we go." Sherlock rinsed, conditioned, and rinsed again. "Want me to get the rest of you too?" John's voice was low, rough, and Sherlock found himself nodding.

John's hands ran over his shoulders, his arms. They scrubbed at his torso and lightly grazed his nipples. Sherlock moaned, his skin tingling. John chuckled.

They washed his belly and hips. Then John reached his groin. "Oh yes, love," John hissed, wrapping his hand around Sherlock's erection.  (Sherlock moaned again, lightly stroking himself.) "God, you have no idea how much I want you, do you?" John pulled him close, his shorter, yet broader body wrapped around Sherlock's slender figure. Sherlock gasped, feeling John's erection slip between his thighs. John kissed the side of his neck. "You gorgeous thing. You need it real bad, don't you? Don't worry, love. I'm gonna make you feel so good."

"Yes, John, yes, I'm all yours," Sherlock gasped.

"Hush," John said gently. "Just...relax."

John's hand ran up and down the length of him, making Sherlock moan in ecstasy. (In reality, he was stroking himself so slowly, teasingly, tortuously.) His thick cock slid gently between his thighs, in and out. John kissed his neck, his shoulders, his back. "God, Sherlock. You're so beautiful," he whispered against his skin. He cupped Sherlock's scrotum, making the detective gasp. "So sensitive."

"John, please..." Sherlock's hips thrust forward, trying to get him to go faster. (Sherlock could have just brought himself off quickly, but that would have ruined the fantasy. John would be an attentive lover, wanting to draw out his pleasure.)

"I'm not even half done with you yet, love," said John, the grin in his voice obvious to Sherlock's ears. "I'm just getting started."

The kisses began to descend.

"John, what are you - OH!" Sherlock exclaimed. John had kissed both of his arsecheeks, then pulled them apart and planted a kiss directly on his entrance. "John, yes, please," Sherlock whimpered.

John swirled his tongue over the tight furl of skin over and over, till Sherlock untensed and John tongue-fucked him relentlessly. (Sherlock wailed with delight as he teased his entrance with his own fingers.) A sweeping lick from his arsehole to the base of his testicles, roving over that sensitive spot in between, and Sherlock was howling. His neglected cock was swollen red and pressed against his belly. "You are so fucking perfect, Sherlock." John stood up and pressed himself back up against Sherlock's back and rutted between his buttocks. "So close," John whispered, peppering his skin with kisses; his hot, ragged breath against the nape of his neck. He reached around and roughly stroked Sherlock, reducing the detective to a quivering, whimpering mess (Sherlock fucked furiously into his own fist). "Come for me, love," John growled in his ear.

Sherlock sobbed blissfully as he climaxed hard, an electric current of pleasure ripping through his entire transport, screaming John's name. Sherlock gasped, shuddering. That had hit the spot.

Sherlock turned off the water, wrapped a towel around his waist, and opened the bathroom door.

John was standing outside, his mouth hanging open.

A cold wave of realization washed over him. John had _heard_. "Oh no," whispered Sherlock.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock was sure John could hear his racing heart, it was beating so hard. John  _knew_ , oh God,  _John knew_ -

" _Sherlock_ ," breathed John, licking his lips hungrily, and the detective suddenly found the army doctor pushing him, not ungently, up against the wood of the door, claiming his lips in an encompassing, open mouth kiss. Sherlock made a surprised, desperate noise as John plundered his mouth, pulling his bottom lip between his and sucking  _oh God_ -

John pulled away, and they both gasped for breath. Sherlock stared into John's eyes, looking for answers, but only finding more mystery in the black abyss of his engorged pupils.

"Do you know," John slowly growled, in a chilling tone that made Sherlock wonder whether the doctor was about to punch him in the face or shag him till he forgot his own name (please God let it be the latter). "...how fucking long I've waited for this day?"

Finally, Sherlock found his voice. "John, I can explain-"

"I come back from grabbing lunch at Speedy's to hear you _touching yourself_ in the shower," John whispered filthily. "That alone's enough to make me hard. But then I hear you _screaming my name_." John latched his mouth onto Sherlock's throat and began sucking _hard_ , hard enough that Sherlock knew there'd be a mark there for several days. He moaned, thumping the back of his head on the bathroom door.

"By the end of tonight, I'll have you screaming it again," John murmured into his skin.

As John's hands stroked his body and his sinful mouth marked up his neck, Sherlock could feel his cock getting hard again under his towel, despite having gotten off just a moment ago. John's thumb found his nipple and Sherlock whimpered as he rolled it into a tight bud. "You sensitive there, love?" John asked, gently pinching. Sherlock couldn't do much else than nod. This led to John pressing his (frustratingly) fully clothed self up against Sherlock, sandwiching him against the door, delightfully twisting at his nipples and tonguing that particular spot right behind his ear that Sherlock knew drove him crazy. The detective could feel John's very prominent erection digging into his thigh - have mercy. John was _huge_.

Soon, Sherlock was back to full hardness, and was gently rubbing against his flatmate's belly. "John,  _please_ ," he pled.

John turned his head toward him and sweetly kissed his lips just once. "Come on, gorgeous. Bedroom."

Three seconds later they were stumbling into Sherlock's room, and John fell back onto his bed. He eyed him up and down, and grinned. "Goodness gracious me. Look at you, Mister Holmes. Positively debauched and naked as a jay bird."

Sherlock looked down and realized his towel had slipped off at some point, and now he was totally exposed. He blushed sharply, instinctively trying to shield his bits.

"No, Sherlock, please, no," said John, pulling the detective onto his lap. "I don't want you to ever hide yourself from me. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and God help me, I've been gone on you since the day I met you."

"Re-really?" Sherlock inquired.

John laughed. "Oh, love. You've really got no idea just how special you are, do you?"

Sherlock looked away, disheartened. "I could just be making all this up in my head," he mumbled.

"Hey." John cupped his face. "I'm real. I love you. I want you. I promise, this is not in your head."

Then he wrapped his arms around Sherlock's naked back and held him tight. "I am so in love with you, Sherlock," he whispered, kissing his neck. "I can't believe I'm what you think about. I didn't think I could be that lucky."

Sherlock blushed happily. "I'm in love with you too, John," he said, burying his face in his neck.

"I'm glad to hear that. I've been waiting on that a long time too," laughed John. They stayed like that for some time, until Sherlock remembered their erections, which were starting to dissipate, and lightly ground his arse in John's lap.

John chuckled. "Eager, are we?"

Sherlock leaned back and gave him the sternest look possible. "I am quite intent on you sexing me, John."

"We have got to work on your pillow talk. I don't suppose you have lube and condoms in here?"

Sherlock scowled. "No," he admitted.

"I could kip upstairs and grab some from my room," said John, laying Sherlock out on the bed on his back and leaning over him, an eyebrow raised seductively. "But I don't much feel like getting up. Don't worry. I think I've got a nice solution."

A minute later, John was naked as well (and Sherlock made a vow to record every inch of the spectacle in his mind palace...later) and on top of Sherlock, their cocks sliding against each other, hands groping arms and arses and everywhere they could reach. The room was filled with noisy groans and gasps. " _Fuck_ ," exclaimed John as Sherlock nibbled his earlobe. "Oh God, you're so beautiful...Sherlock..." He began rutting against the detective in earnest, making them both moan. They were both so very close. "Come with me, love, aw fuck, that's it, come on, _God_ , I love you-"

Sherlock came for the second time with a loud cry, his seed coating both their stomachs. This second orgasm, while still being intense and fiery and marvelous, left him in a floaty, mellow, dreamlike state - so superior to cocaine. John groaned, grabbed Sherlock's hand, and guided his long fingers to wrap around his impressive cock. "SHERLOCK!" he shouted, coming hard all over them.

They collapsed in a ball, a heavy-breathing, sweaty, sticky heap. John gathered up Sherlock in his arms and kissed his face and neck all over. "God, you're fantastic. I love you so much."

"Mm, love you," sighed Sherlock, snuggling into his warm, spicy skin. He could drift off like this...

"Ah, ah, ah, not yet, darling. We need to rinse off, else we'll wake up a crusty mess."

"Mmm..." Sherlock opened one eye at him. "Shower for two?" he suggested, grinning.


End file.
